Serendipity
by Sealgirl
Summary: UPDATED CHAPTER 4 The Young Ones travel to the sacred Monastery at Esagil for a very special party and the chance to relax for a while in safety. But as always, it doesn't go quite as planned.
1. An Open Invitation

**DISCLAIMER**: The D&D Cartoon belongs to someone else, and this is written because it seemed like good fun and I enjoy it, not for financial gain.

**STORY**: Set after the story "The Lair of the Lich King". I would like to say it's not a sequel, but it is, just not to "The Lair of the Lich King". Most of the previous stories get a mention somewhere, there are a few loose ends to tie up, and some get mentioned more than others. There are some special guest star appearances. Not only that, but it's another "double episode" type story!

**CREDITS**: The Sentience Hall appears with the kind permission of Fayzalmoonbeam. And I have shamelessly plundered various aspects of Sumerian Mythology as well.

**RATING**: PG-13

**PROMPT**: Written for the LJ ff100 prompt #86 Choices.

**THANKS**: Especially large and seal-shaped thanks to Bluetiger, ForeverJetrisLPL, Polgara of Erat, Jan Lee, the Super-Scribbles and the Excellent-Elektralyte for your reviews of my other stories. Thank you for taking the time to let me know you enjoyed it :)

* * *

Serendipity

Part I – The Party

* * *

Chapter 1

An Open Invitation

Everything in the Realm could sense it.

There was a whisper on the wind: the whisper of _change_. It crept through the cracks in the stones, it leaked through the thick walls of the houses and cities, it rose like fog from the rivers and ocean, it rushed like the winds of darkness through the forests.

It was the time for change. It was time for the Feast and everything knew what that meant.

_Fate and Destiny_. These were such powerful words, and the ultimate source of change in the Realm. These were the words that governed the Realm, not the machinations of the old Dungeonmaster or the irrelevant evils of Venger.

Many who sought their way through the Realm gave no thought to either of these powers. Many believed that Fate could not be altered and many believed that their Destiny was set the moment they set foot upon the soil of the Realm.

But that is not so.

The Dungeonmaster knows; he understands that for every action there are consequences that none can foresee, and none would dare to guess.

And Venger knows; he understands the quality of each deed, the quality that prohibits control within the limiting views of narrow-minded mortals.

They know also of the Keepers of Fate, who tend the power and help it thrive, these Keepers that guide both Fate and Destiny to their goals.

And yet, even with the Keepers ever watching, both the Dungeonmaster and Venger know that almost anything is possible within the Realm, if only the correct events occur in the correct places. They know how small a change is necessary.

Beneath them, all the small lives carry on, safe under the care of those they think know about such matters.

But neither Fate nor Destiny are carved in stone. _Not yet_. Not until after the Feast.

* * *

For Hank the Ranger, it seemed almost like a normal Realm-like day, the same as all the others.

It had started with a sudden wake-up call from Presto's Hat, and then a short but conclusive argument about who's turn it was to find breakfast; an argument that Eric had lost. Then there had been a short walk though some grasslands towards the flanking side of the mountains.

They were all in a good mood as they walked, happy and relaxed, and indulged their favourite pastime of Cavalier-teasing. Eric, needless to say was happy enough to be walked straight into it.

All it had needed was the mention of Dungeonmaster, and Presto was eager to oblige.

'But Dungeonmaster told us…' said Presto.

'I keep telling you,' said Eric shortly. 'Dungeonmaster knows zip about what's going on! If he did, would he have sent us this way? There's nothing this way. Not even a portal.'

'But it's such a _nice_ way,' said Diana, coming up beside Presto and grinning. 'If we hadn't gone this way, we would have missed the chance to have this conversation.'

'Besides,' added Presto, grinning just like Diana, 'we did choose to come this way.'

'That's not the point,' said Eric. 'Dungeonmaster knows…'

'Dungeonmaster doesn't know everything,' chipped in Bobby. 'He said so.'

'And you're gonna believe a bald midget in a dress?' snapped Eric.

The Barbarian sniggered.

'You've believed him before,' said Diana.

'Yes, but that was different.'

'How?'

That question flummoxed the Cavalier for a few seconds.

'If you can't tell the difference, then I'm not going to waste _my_ time explaining it to you,' he said hotly, glaring at the grinning faces. 'Besides, you are missing my point.'

'You have point?' asked Sheila, with an innocent smile. 'Where? I must have missed it.'

The group around Eric dissolved into fits of laughter, and Hank joined in, amused more by the righteous and indignant look on Eric's face than what the others were saying.

'All I'm _trying_ to say is that this is a dumb idea,' said Eric with mock calm. 'This has to be the stupidest thing we've done since…'

'I can think of a _funny_ thing that's happened recently,' interrupted Diana loudly. 'But not silly!'

She was looking at him, deliberately trying to copy the Cavalier's own "incredulous" expression and under her stare, Eric faltered.

'Yeah, Diana, what was that, again?' asked Presto. 'Wasn't it something to do with clothes?'

Diana had sidled up Eric, smirking like a Cheshire cat. The Cavalier turned red.

'That wasn't my fault,' he muttered.

'How is your armour, anyway?' added Diana. 'Still comfy? You still happy enough to be wearing it?'

The scarlet shade of Eric's face seemed to get deeper.

'Oh, leave him alone,' said Sheila with a suppressed giggle. 'It's obvious he can't defend himself…'

'Hey! Cut it out!' cried Eric indignantly, suddenly stopping, and putting his hands on his hips so he could give them a proper scowl. The others ground to a halt around the Cavalier, who stood at glared at them.

'That's not fair,' he said crossly. 'It's not like I did it deliberately. And just because I happen to be the one who ended up first on the slab doesn't mean that you can…'

The Cavalier continued talking, but Hank had stopped listening, and not just because he had heard it all before. Something distracted his attention away for a moment. Someone else was there. Or some_thing_. And it was green.

'Quiet!' said Hank. Everyone, bar Eric, obeyed.

'…all you lot do is sit around while I am the one who has to…' Eric looked round at The Ranger, a few seconds after everyone else. 'What did I miss?'

Hank put his fingers to his lips.

'Oh,' said Eric.

Hank pointed towards the rocks ahead where he thought he had seen something. He could take a good guess at what was hiding there: _Orcs_. It hadn't come as much of a surprise. They had known Venger was close by for a few days; they had seen him on the Nightmare from a distance, and they had all seen and heard the Orcs at some point as well.

The others didn't need Hank to tell them what to do and they moved into a defensive formation without any need for instruction. The landscape was slightly different from their campsite; it had slowly changed as they walked, from an almost perfectly flat floodplain covered in purple grass, to rocky and uneven ground with plenty of dips and hillocks. This was a perfect place for an ambush of some sort.

What surprised Hank was the ease with which he saw it coming. Ahead, there was a small hill, covered with large boulders that formed a perfect cover. It was quiet as well, there was no noise at all, unlike earlier when there had been the soft trill of birds and the buzz of insects. Now there was nothing at all.

Beside Hank, Sheila began to fidget with the hood of her Cloak, and one by one the others all looked round at each other, and the Ranger. They all looked at Hank, to see his reaction.

The Ranger knew it was a troop of Orcs. He could virtually _smell_ them!

The kids were at an obvious disadvantage; the Orcs had the higher ground, and he had no idea how many there were. A retreat would seem to be straightforward enough, but they would be vulnerable for a few minutes and they would still have to find a way round. And besides, it was only Orcs!

He nodded, and they all raised their weapons, and Sheila vanished beneath her Cloak.

Hank took a couple of steps forward, his Bow raised and an energy arrow already drawn, watching for any sign of movement.

With a shout, a large Orc Captain appeared from behind a nearby rock and lunged at him.

Hank was faster. The arrow flew out of his hand knocking the Orc over and pinning it to the ground. There were more shouts.

The Acrobat suddenly appeared at his side, swinging the Javelin round at another two Orcs that were running towards them. Then he heard Presto mumbling into the Hat, and there was a low booming noise and a chorus of coughing. The charging Orcs stumbled to a halt in confusion.

'Presto!' shrieked Eric 'How many times I have got to tell you! Don't do that when I'm so close!'

Hank risked a quick look round behind him. The Cavalier was standing with his arms on his hips, looking cross and covered in greyish black dust, except for a Shield-shaped clean patch on his right side. Eric was glaring at the Magician.

'And how did that help our situation?' the Cavalier asked Presto. 'Please explain! I'm all ears!'

There was some sniggering from the baby unicorn and Bobby, who was swinging his Club wildly at the nearest Orc.

'Save it!' Hank called. 'Orcs first, arguments later!'

The Barbarian didn't need to be told twice, and with a smooth movement he swung his Club hard at the ground sending a minor earthquake across the surrounding countryside. Everyone staggered, even Hank who had been expecting it. All of his friends managed to stay upright, though it seemed like a close call with Eric, and all of the Orcs toppled over, at least all the Orcs that he could see.

Hank fired again, pinning the prone Orcs down.

There was another loud bang from the direction of Presto and the Hat, and another screech for anger from the Cavalier. The rest of the Orcs scattered.

For a second, Hank watched them run, making sure that their attackers really had gone. Then he looked round at the others. Eric, still covered in the fine grey dust, was glaring at his friends.

'You look like a statue!' said Diana with a snigger.

'Just a moment!' cried Sheila with a playful grin. 'Stand still!'

The Thief moved forward and started the write a little bit of graffiti on Eric breastplate. Diana took one look and collapsed in a fit of laughter that spread round the group. Eric looked round at the others, unable to read what she had written, looking furious.

'That's very amusing,' said Eric, without betraying the smallest hint of amusement. 'Hilarious in every single way! But now we've finished making fun of the hapless Cavalier can we please get out of here! Before we meet more Orcs?'

'Why?' asked Diana, still giggling, 'You could scare them away as a walking rock!'

'Or if you clapped your hands, you could threaten them with a cloud of dust!' suggested Bobby.

'You find amusement in the most childish of things!' Eric said sourly. It was a sign of how desperate Eric was getting that he turned to Hank.

'Can you _please_ do something about them?' he asked.

Now Hank looked more closely, he could see why everyone was having a good laugh at the Cavalier's expense, the fine grey dust seemed to streak slightly, giving him a stripy, unnatural look, especially around his face. He did look totally ridiculous and the more indignant he became, the more silly and ridiculous he looked. And he had seen what Sheila had written; unable to help himself, Hank started to laugh as well.

'Ok,' said Eric, eventually. 'Fine. Very funny. You've had your little joke, will you tell me what it says?'

Presto obliged, or at least tried to.

'It says…' he gasped. 'It… says "Also available in yellow."'

Eric's stony expression didn't change in the slightest, and that made it all the funnier.

But suddenly a smug, slightly cruel smile spread across his face. With a huff and a cloud of grey dust, Eric crossed his arms.

'Now we're gonna see who's laughing!' he said, pointing directly behind Hank.

The Ranger turned round, the laughter vanishing in a moment, and a cold certainty filled his chest. Sure enough, he saw what he was afraid he would see: Venger on the Nightmare coming close behind them, together with more Orcs.

'That's not funny, Eric!' growled Bobby. 'Why didn't you tell us?'

'And spoil all your fun?' hissed the Cavalier. 'Why would _I_ do that?'

Hank cast a furious scowl at the other boy, surprised that he would have done such a dangerous thing. But Eric scowled back.

'Hey! I was kidding,' said Eric indignantly. 'I didn't see them until just a moment ago!'

With their weapons held up defensively, they waiting for Venger to approach and Eric continued muttering under his breath.

The Arch-Mage let his Nightmare walked slowly forward. To Hank, their enemy seemed much more interested in them and their surroundings than usual. It was odd, and Venger seemed to be looking for something, and when he didn't see whatever it was, he smiled with a distinctive malicious pleasure that was typically Venger.

'I see you have defeated the Orcs that I sent to attack you,' he said in a smug tone. 'It is fortunate then, that I kept some back as reinforcements.'

'We'll just defeat them as well,' said Bobby angrily, waving the Club.

'Yeah!' said Diana. 'Why don't you just let us try!'

Venger gave a snort of laughter.

'So eager to hasten your own defeat!' he replied. 'But how arrogant you have become! I wonder what Dungeonmaster would say if he could hear you?'

No one replied, and Hank suddenly became worried. It wasn't so much the words of Venger, but the way he said them, it sent alarm bells ringing in his mind, as loud as the Hat's wake-up calls.

The Ranger raised up his Bow, holding an arrow steady, directed at Venger's face.

'What do you want, Venger?' he asked.

In reply, red magic flared in Venger's right hand, and behind him, his Orcs started to shuffle nervously.

'Give me your weapons and then, perhaps, I will not destroy you,' the Arch-Mage replied.

Hank opened his mouth to give Venger their answer, but before he could speak there was a noise from their left. It wasn't a cry, but a musical note, high and piercing and as pure as light itself.

As the note echoed round the hills, time almost seemed to stop, and on Venger's face there was a look of undisguised fury. Behind him, the Orcs covered their ears, and flinched as if in pain. Hank looked at his friends, but they were just standing there, looking in wonder round at each other.

Before the last echo had died away, the note sounded again, closer this time, and the sound seemed to pass straight into his heart, sending a wave of hope and joy through him.

Venger, however, looked even more furious than before. There was a snarl on his face and his eyes were narrowed.

'So be it,' hissed Venger to the Young Ones. 'We shall meet again before long.'

With that, he pulled hard on the Nightmare, and it wheeled round in a blur of black and red, then leapt into the air. The Orcs on the ground took their cue and turned to run back the way they had come. Within a minute, they were already a good distance away.

'Hmm,' said Eric, with a mock thoughtfulness. 'That's a brilliant way to chase of Venger! C Sharp! Now why didn't I think of that!'

'I would have thought you were more B flat kind of guy!' retorted Diana.

'And if I were you, I would be careful just how you use the word _flat_, Diana,' Eric replied, arching his eyebrows in a superior way. A smug grin spread across his face as they looked at each other, and Diana seemed to turn red under her dark skin. Just for a moment, she looked so insulted that she might have slapped him.

'Stop it!' Hank ordered. 'This isn't a good time for an insult match!'

Eric murmured a sort of apology, but Diana was still a shade of scarlet and didn't look like she was going to forgive him any time soon.

'But what was that sound?' asked Sheila. 'I've never heard anything like it before ever. It was so beautiful.'

Hank shrugged.

'And who would have thought a sound would have chased off Venger,' said Bobby, coming up to Hank and his sister.

'Whatever it was,' said Sheila, 'it was a good job it showed up when it did!'

'Yeah,' added Presto. 'But it's kinda weird, though.'

A smile twitched at Hank's mouth as he waited for the inevitable retort from the Cavalier. Sure enough, after only a moment, Eric spoke.

'This whole place is kinda weird, remember,' he said.

There was a pause as they all looked around.

'Still doesn't explain what it was,' said Presto.

There was another, more anxious silence.

From the left there came the sense of movement, Hank couldn't explain it any better; as if something was on its way. Then there was a flurry of colours, and the soft sound of the most beautiful song that he had ever heard. Later, when he tried to remember the actual notes; that was impossible. All that lingered in his memory was the feeling of joy and hope that was woven into the tone.

No one spoke as the song floated around them, each one of them stood with their mouths open enjoying the music. Hank looked up, not sure what he expected to see.

There was movement in the sky above, and something small and blue came fluttering downwards on the light breeze.

It was a tiny iridescent-blue bird that reminded Hank of a hummingbird, except the bill was much, much shorter. It wafted gracefully about his head as he watched it, as if it was inspecting him. After almost a minute of flitting round the group, it seemed to be satisfied and swooped low, dropping a small piece of paper in front if him. Then, with one final clear note, it vanished, and the beautiful melody disappearing too.

Hank looked down at the folder paper in front of him, and reached down to open it. Then he read it with growing disbelief; that didn't say what he thought it said, did it? It seemed so unlikely that Hank couldn't take the message seriously. Did this sort of thing even happen in the Realm?

Bored by the momentary inactivity, Bobby took the paper from Hank's hand, then gave a loud whoop.

'Guess what guys!' he said joyfully. 'We're goin' to a party!'

There was a short pause as all but one of his friends stood speechless as the Barbarian's announcement. Then the still-grey Cavalier gave a snort that sent a small plume of grey dust up in front of him.

'Give me that thing!' he said sharply, snatching the paper out of Bobby's hand. 'It's obvious you can't read!'

'Ranger, Barbarian, Magician, Thief, Cavalier and Acrobat of the Realm,' Eric read. 'You are all to be welcomed at the Great Feast of Zagmuk in the Sentience Hall, two days hence in the Sacred Monastery of Esagil, for the reading of Fate, and the defining of Destiny. Bring your own beer.'

'What!' said Sheila, clearly shocked. 'Bring your own _beer_?'

'I think he made that bit up!' said Diana. The Cavalier was grinning at Sheila's outraged reaction.

'Er-ic!' said Sheila crossly. 'That's not funny!'

But even Hank found the idea amusing, and he couldn't help a smile. He was fortunately saved from an irate Thief by a familiar voice.

'Greetings, my young Pupils!'

'Dungeonmaster,' they chorused. Uni brayed her welcome too.

'Whaddya think of this!' said Bobby excitedly, before Dungeonmaster could say any more. He grabbed the piece of paper out of Eric's hand and waved it in front of the old man's nose. 'We're goin' to a party!'

Dungeonmaster gave the excited boy a smile.

'Indeed, Barbarian,' he said with a nod.

'And I take it Venger isn't invited,' said Hank. 'If the messenger managed to scare him off!'

Dungeonmaster nodded once more.

'You are correct, Ranger. There are certain rules, and certain powers, that even Venger would not dare to defy, at least not without great provocation,' Dungeonmaster explained. 'This is one of them. The Monastery at Esagil is a Sanctuary for Good, and a place where all may rest and find their way. All Evil is forbidden to enter.'

'Where is it?' demanded Bobby. 'Is there gonna be lots of food too?'

Everyone smiled at the Barbarian's questions. Hank even heard Eric mutter something like "always thinking with his stomach", but the Cavalier, fortunately, didn't say it loud enough for Bobby to hear.

'Esagil lies to the East,' Dungeonmaster said, pointing towards the low hills. 'You should reach it before nightfall.'

'A Monastery seems to be a strange place for a party!' said Eric. 'Are you sure you're not just making all this up?'

'Er-ic!' came the chorus, but Dungeonmaster politely ignored him.

'And what can you tell us about Esagil?' asked Diana. 'Why is there a Feast?'

'It is the place of Destiny,' said Dungeonmaster sagely. ' And you go to celebrate Fate. What is more, within Esagil there are the Halls of Sentience, the most sacred place in the Realm.'

At that, even Eric managed to look suitably impressed.

'You will meet many, many people at the Sentience Hall,' the Guide continued. 'It is the highest honour in the Realm to be invited.'

Eric gave a smug grin, and even Sheila smiled with a certain pride.

'So are you going too, Dungeonmaster?' she asked.

Much to everyone's surprise, their Guide shook his head.

'I do not go to the Sentience Hall.'

They waited for him to say something else, and when he didn't, Eric asked:

'Are you gonna tell us why?'

'No,' replied Dungeonmaster simply.

Uneasy silence, then Hank asked:

'So, where is it?'

The old man pointed towards the mountains.

'You must journey to the East for the rest of the day, then follow the road towards the Citadel in the hills,' he said. 'Just before the Citadel gate is the Esagil Monastery.'

'And what do we do when we get there?' asked Diana.

Dungeonmaster smiled but shook his head.

'I have no riddles to help you, my pupils. No magic except that of Fate is capable of working within the halls of the Monastery. And what awaits you there, I cannot see.' He looked around at them, finally looking at the Ranger. 'But if you do not succeed in your allotted task, you _will_ never get home!'

The others looked round at each other, and Sheila took a small step closer to Hank. He had to resist the temptation to put his arm around her, but he shivered, as if someone were walking over his grave.

'That's just great, Dungeonmaster!' said Eric. 'Why can't you…aw!'

'He's gone!' said Sheila.

'I'm not even surprised anymore,' said the Cavalier with a huff. 'There's only a finite number of times I can do it.'

His posturing was spoiled by an outburst from the Barbarian, and everyone forgot about the Cavalier.

'But we're gonna go to a party!' said Bobby happily.

'Meeh, Mart-tmeee!' echoed Uni.

Eric turned to Presto.

'Can you and that useless Hat at least get me a towel before we get there? So I don't have to go looking like _this_!'

Presto was about to reply, but the acrobat got their first.

'He's got a point,' said Diana with a malicious gleam in her eye. 'We wouldn't want anyone to think Eric looks _this_ stupid all the time!'

'I don't want to go to a party dressed like this,' said Sheila, looking down at her clothes in mock despair. 'Any chance of getting something a bit more… appropriate, Presto?'

The Magician opened his mouth, perhaps to say something _in_appropriate, but he closed it again quickly. Instead he started to mutter into the Hat, desperately searching for a good rhyme for towel. Second time, he got a small, green hand-towel, and dutifully handed it over to the Cavalier who started dusting himself down.

They all watched Eric flick dust off his armour.

Suddenly, Sheila looked round at he Ranger, a questioning look on her face.

'I mean, we _are_ going to Esagil?' she asked. 'Aren't we, Hank?'

It seemed so straightforward, that the Ranger felt bad for hesitating. But it seemed as if this were more dangerous and important that the others thought.

Everyone was looking at him expectantly, Eric with a particularly deriding expression on his face.

'Yeah,' Hank said stiffly. 'Yeah, of course we are!'

That was the response they were all looking for, and there was a cheer, especially from Bobby.

They turned to the East and started to walk. At first they all talked excitedly about what was going to happen, and what they might expect.

Hank walked at the back, on his own, listening to the chatter. For all the enthusiasm of the others, there was something different about travelling this time, as if there were a dark cloud over him. Before, after one of Dungeonmaster's visits, they had known roughly what to expect, or rather they had a riddle to help them. This time, not even Dungeonmaster could tell them what was going to happen, or why, and their own fate in the Realm seemed to hinge on what they did. If they didn't do what they had to do, they would never get home. That thought did nothing to lift his mood.

The ground started to slope upwards as they walked, but by early afternoon and before they reached the edge of the mountains, they came across a long, straight road that stretched away to the North.

Hank raised his hand to his eyes, shielding his gaze from the sun. Nestled in the curve of the landscape he could just about make out the line of some buildings, and maybe a city wall.

'Guess that way's the way to go,' he said, pointing. 'We should be there before sundown.'

'We should be there before dinner,' said Eric hopefully.

'Now who's thinking with their stomach?' asked Diana.

Eric screwed up his nose at her, with a look that bordered on a sneer, and the ignored her and walked off on his own, leading the way forward.

The others all fell into a rough line behind him, with Hank and Sheila strategically placed at the back so they could have some peace and quiet away from the others.

The road itself started off dusty and overgrown with weeds and strange flowers, as if it wasn't used anymore. But as early evening, the road became clearer and the stones more worn. Other roads joined from both left and right, and the main road grew wider. But they still didn't see anyone else as they approached the hills.

Then, as the suns were down below the mountains, and the sky had turned to violet, they turned a slow curve in the road, and ahead they could see their ultimate goal: the Monastery at Esagil.

The road split in to a short way ahead. The road to the right, the one with smooth, well-worn stones, led to a tall gate that seemed to dwarf everything else. Behind the gate, Hank could make out the outline of houses and high towers. He guessed this was the Citadel that Dungeonmaster had mentioned.

The road to the left led to a low-walled building that seemed to sprawl over the land like an unruly weed. It was difficult to tell how large it was, as they drew closer, more parts of the building seemed to appear from out of the shadows. Nevertheless, there was a powerful, positive feeling coming from the Monastery; everyone could feel it. They had all stopped talking, and were walking forward at a good pace, as if eager to get to their destination now they had seen it.

In the looming presence of their goal, Hank felt more relaxed than he had felt in months, maybe even years. He allowed himself to slip his arm round Sheila's waist as they walked, and was pleased to see the happy smile that she gave him in return.

'Do you hear that?' said Presto suddenly.

'The sound of your voice?' asked Eric.

'No! That song again?'

Hank saw Eric open his mouth to reply, but then his expression changed. A moment later, Hank heard it too, that same beautiful song that seemed to flow right through him. It was coming from inside the Monastery.

They hurried on, and quickly came to the end of the road. Before them, place in the wall, was a small wooden door with a narrow brass handle. Not the sort of door Hank had expected.

They all stopped and looked at it, but nothing happened.

'Guess we had better knock,' said Eric. He looked at Hank. 'On you go.'

Hank looked round at the eager faces of his friends, and nodded. It seemed silly to be unnerved by something as straightforward as a door. They were here now. They had been invited. There was no reason to delay.

He stepped up to the door rapped twice, directly in the centre.

And then they waited.

* * *

The noise echoed through the wood and stone, then down; deep, deep down into the earth below to the place where the Storm-Bird lay in an uneasy sleep.

_This_ was the sound it had been waiting for.


	2. Take Five

Chapter 2

Take Five

'Nobody heard you,' said Eric. 'Knock again, louder!'

Hank had barely taken his hand from the door before the Cavalier complained, and the Ranger turned to frown at him.

'Er-ic!' said Diana in an exasperated tone. 'Give them a chance, it's only been five seconds! I know you don't have to open your front door yourself, but it takes time to get to it.'

Eric gave her a petty sneer in reply, but much to Hank's surprise, he didn't say anything else. Since when did the Cavalier _not_ take the opportunity to boast about servants?

Another few seconds had passed, and Hank felt the weight of Eric's scornful stare on him again. The Ranger was sure that if Eric had been wearing a watch he would have been counting off the seconds!

'Relax, Eric,' said Presto. 'I'm sure their butler is on his way!'

A moment after Presto had spoke, there was a noise from behind the door, and the Magician beamed at his friends, proud of his perfect timing. A moment after that, the handle on the door turned, and it swung open without a sound.

From what Hank could see of the interior, it was well lit, but plainly decorated in maroon, white and black. There was a sweet, sandy fragrance that wafted out of the doorway. But he could not see anyone who could have opened the door. In spite of that, he had a good feeling from this place, now that he could see in, and he led his friends inside.

There was a still air of peace and thoughtfulness about the room they were in. It was a wide hallway, with a low roof, and a chequered floor. Every so often there were small pools of light from windows set into the roof. The others gathered round him, waiting to see what he would do next.

As Hank looked round, he noticed that there seemed to be a man waiting for them, sitting in an ornate chair at the far end of the hall, in front of what seemed to be a corridor. The moment Hank saw him, the other man rose.

'Approach!' he called, raising his right hand. He seemed to be holding a short staff, but it was difficult to tell exactly what it was.

With a shrug to Sheila, Hank moved forward along the corridor, and the others all did the same.

'Greetings, honoured Pupils of the Dungeonmaster!' said the man, bowing very low before them. 'On behalf of the Keepers, I welcome you to the Monastery at Esagil'

'Umm… Hi!' said Hank weakly, after failing to think of something more impressive. After a moment, he bowed as well, as it seemed the correct thing to do. Again, his friends followed his lead.

When he looked up, he could see the other man more clearly. He was very tall and broad, with a regal and austere air that reminded Hank of King Rahmoud. He had short-cropped blonde hair, and a short blonde beard, and very green eyes. His face was rounded, with high cheekbones and a fair complexion. He wore a white tunic, dark red pants and boots, and on his head he had a thin circlet of black metal that contrasted with his light hair. In his right hand there was indeed a short staff, a little like an electric torch in shape, but with a bulbous red crystal at the top.

'I am Enlil, the Herald of the Monastery,' he said. 'It is my duty and my pleasure to be your guide while you are within the walls of the Monastery.'

Hank could see Eric rolling his eyes. He knew what the Cavalier was thinking as he was thinking the exact same thing: _Not another guide_!

Enlil the Herald gestured for them to follow, and he turned and led them down the corridor behind him. The corridor was short, and after less than a minute it opened out into a small, richly decorate hall.

Hank didn't pay much attention to his surroundings as, right in front of them as they entered, there was a wide velvet dais covered in weapons and objects of all kinds.

'Wow!' said Presto breathlessly. 'Magic.'

'Yeah, I suppose it is pretty cool,' said Eric.

'Jeez, Eric! No!' replied the Magician with a scowl. 'They're all magic weapons.'

'Indeed you are correct, Magician of the Realm,' said Enlil. 'And this is where your weapons shall rest peacefully while you are within these walls.'

'Hey, y'know, I'm not so sure about that,' said Eric, pulling his Shield up to his chest protectively. 'What if we need them, or something?'

'You will not need them within these halls,' Enlil replied.

'How do _you_ know?'

'Because they will not work,' the Herald said in a totally reasonable tone. 'No magic but the will of Fate may work within these walls.'

Eric looked down at his Shield. He took a few moments to formulate his next argument.

'Even if that's true, we're just supposed to leave them lying around on a table?' He turned to look at his friends. 'Does that seem like a good idea to any of you?'

When it was put like that, it didn't seem that good an idea, but this was not a normal place. Hank could sense a great deal of power here; he was sure even Eric could sense it too, and that the Cavalier was just being awkward for the sake of it. But the feeling of peace and safety was so intoxicating that he refused to get angry, even at Eric!

'I'm sure they'll be perfectly safe,' Hank said. 'Dungeonmaster said this was a place Evil could not enter.'

'You speak the truth,' Enlil said. 'And once you place your weapons on this dais, none but you may remove them, such is the power of this room.'

Hank gave quick Eric a look, stepped forward and placed his Bow down between an axe and a horn. He could see a huge range of different objects; swords, staffs, capes, hats, crowns, a whip, various books, chain mail, armour, a few rings, some bracelets, a coil of rope, a phial or two of some odd looking liquid… the more he looked, the more things he saw.

Eric was still staring at him, but when he saw that nothing happened to the Bow, he gave a shrug and propped his Shield up at the back. One by one the others relinquished their weapons too.

As the last weapon was placed on the dais, Uni gave a soft plaintive whine; she looked tired and unhappy, and Bobby put his arm protectively around her, giving the Herald a glare. Enlil smiled, and knelt down beside the unicorn, and tenderly patted her flank.

'Magical creature,' he murmured, placing his hand on the top of her head, near her horn. 'Do not struggle against the power of this place. For I say to you, you are _blessed_ by the power of Light.'

At the words, Uni sighed, and leaned against Bobby, as if trying to find something comfortable to fall asleep against.

'She must rest now,' Enlil told the suspicious Barbarian. 'And when she wakes she will be at one with the magic. But she will not be able to use her own powers until you leave. If she tries, she may hurt herself. It is up to you to make sure she is safe, and you must look after her. Do you understand?'

Bobby nodded at the sombre words of the Herald, and gave his unicorn a hug. Enlil rose, looking round at the group.

'The Feast of Zagmuk is prepared for the equinox, until then you may rest here.'

Hank gave a slight nod in acknowledgement, but behind him, the others shifted uneasily. A moment later, Eric voiced the questions that they were all thinking.

'You know,' said Eric, 'good ol' Dungeonmaster didn't give us a lot of information about this party. When's the equinox? And what's gonna happen? Who…?'

He stopped as Enlil lifted his hand.

'In this place, Destiny is decided and they must not be afraid. Whatever must happen, will happen. The iron hand of Fate will not fail you.'

'How do we know when…?' continued Eric.

'You will be called.'

'But… but what do we _do_?' asked Sheila timidly.

'Do what your heart and mind tell you to,' Enlil replied.

Before anyone could ask more questions, and before Eric could start to complain about riddles, a door at one side opened. Six white-clad servants appeared, each one going to stand next to one of the kids. The one that stopped next to Hank gave him a slight bow, and Hank bowed back politely.

'Now you will be shown to your separate rooms,' said Enlil.

'On our own?' asked Bobby, sounding surprisingly nervous.

'You must be alone to find yourselves,' was the suspiciously Dungeonmaster-like reply from the Herald. 'You cannot hear your soul's voice without listening, and you cannot listen without silence.'

Confused, the Barbarian looked at Hank for reassurance, and so he smiled and nodded.

'But don't we get shown around, a guided tour, or something?' asked Eric.

'There is no need,' insisted Enlil.

'Maybe they have guide books in rooms,' the Cavalier said in a mock whisper to Presto. 'And I wonder if they have room service?'

Diana gave him a whack on the arm.

'Grow up!'

Enlil bowed low to the group, and they were led out through the door the servants had entered, Bobby now having to carry the sleepy unicorn. As they walked, one by one, they split up heading a different way until it was only Hank and Sheila. Then it was time for her to leave as well, and they shared a warm smile as they parted.

It was very strange to be without his friends, even more so because he was without his Bow. He didn't feel like talking as they walked and his guide didn't seem to mind.

The halls were a dull, brown-red, plainly decorated, and there were a number of other doors and corridors dotted around as well. It all looked roughly the same, so he had no idea where he was relative to the others, or anything else. But that didn't seem to matter at the moment.

At last, they arrived at a plain door that the servant opened, and Hank went inside.

The door swung shut behind him, and Hank realised that he was alone at last.

His room was large, there was a fireplace in one corner, with the glowing embers of a fire that had left the room comfortably warm. There seemed to be dark red on the walls, and on the floor but it was difficult to be sure. The shutters on the windows were closed and there was very little light, but enough to make out a bed in the centre.

For a while, he sat on the edge of the bed, not sure what to do. But then he decided that he was monumentally sleepy. As if to emphasis the point, he gave a huge yawn.

Stripping off his out clothes and leaving them in a pile on the floor, he crawled into the soft, fresh-smelling bed and closed his eyes.

A moment later he was asleep.

* * *

The Cavalier had no idea how long he slept for, but it didn't seem to be for quite long enough. He often woke once or twice during the night, perhaps just out of habit, but always turned over and went back to sleep. But in the early morning when he did wake up, he couldn't seem to rest. So instead, he lay in bed with his eyes closed, savouring the by-now-unfamiliar sensation of safety.

He could relax, he reminded himself. There was no need to worry about who was next on guard, or how they were going to find food, or having to walk for miles the next day, or what was going to go wrong. He could lie around in bed and do nothing for as long as he liked.

Back at home, he could have done that every day of the week, unless he was told to get out to school but his Dad. But a lie-in had become a luxury in the Realm, and one he was determined to enjoy.

He let his mind drift, hoping he would go back to sleep, maybe even dream. His mind was too active, and though he found it hard to concentrate on just one thing, he found it impossible to sleep.

Eventually, after an hour of lying around, he pushed himself out of bed. His armour was on the floor just beside his bed, still dirty from that stupid spell yesterday. He was probably still dirty as well, so the first thing he decided to do was wash.

There were two doors, one was presumably the door to the outside, since it had a lock on it, so he opened the other one. Behind it was a bathroom, a real, proper genuine bathroom, with a _bath_ in it! It didn't quite have gold-plated taps, but that seemed less important than it had done before the Realm. There was a system of levers and a sort of nozzle, and that was all that mattered.

So Eric ran a very hot bath, as hot as he could stand, stripped off the rest of his clothes and sank into the water.

When was the last time he had had a proper bath like this? When was the last time when water wasn't in short supply, or far too cold to lie around in? When was the last time he'd had peace to lounge about, without a queue at the door?

He didn't bother trying to answer the questions. He just lay there, letting him mind wander as sweet, musky steam filled the air. As before in bed, he found it impossible to concentrate on one thing, but that seemed even less important than it had before.

Eventually, after a very long time lying about, he washed the dust out of his hair, and scrubbed away all traces of dirt. There wasn't any soap, but he hadn't expected any, and he was used to going without it by now. Presto's Hat didn't like soap; rather it only produced the rough carbolic kind that was more useful in stripping the paint off things than keeping people clean.

Once he was finished, he lay there again, letting the water go cold, just thinking about anything his mind came up with, and feeling more relaxed than he had earlier. Before the water became too cold to bear, he pushed himself out and dried off.

He walked over to on the shuttered windows and peeped outside.

'What!' he said out loud.

It was still dark, the sky was the violet of early dawn, and he could tell that the suns wouldn't be fully up for a number of hours.

'That's great!' he muttered. 'What am I supposed to do for the next three hours!'

As if in answer, he gave a yawn and, like last night, he realised he was very tired.

With another yawn he wandered back to the bed and clambered in, pulling the sheets up round his head. Within a few moments, he was asleep once more.

* * *

Presto had slept until the first rays of the suns had touched his window, flowing into his room through a chink in the shutters like a river of liquid amber. Even before he opened his eyes, he could sense the warmth and smell a warm, relaxing aroma that reminded him of a meadow in sunshine.

For a moment, he almost turned over to go back to sleep, but his sense of excitement and anticipation had prevented it.

Instead he opened his eyes, and pushed himself upright to take a look around his room.

The first thing that struck him was that it was red… _all_ red: red wall, red, floor, red curtains, red ceiling, red covers on his bed, even glowing red embers in the maroon-coloured fireplace. There were slightly different shades of red everywhere. For a moment Presto thought that it was just his mind playing tricks. (No, Presto. It really is all red!) _That's just weird_! (You're telling me!)

Beyond the colour, it was a plainly decorated room, with very few pieces of furniture. There was a bed, a table and a red rug on the floor. On the table near the bottom of his bed, he caught sight of his green Magician's robes, neatly folded up, not the way he had left them the night before! Next to them were more clothes, also neatly folded and red, of course. (Hope they're not more robes!)

Relaxed and well-rested for once, Presto didn't feel much like getting out of bed to investigate, so he let the fact that someone might have been in his room pass for the moment. After all, they probably had some sort of laundry service here. It would be better than letting the Hat do the laundry.

(The girls would be happier) _Eric would be happier too_! (But it wasn't my fault the Hat didn't understand) _And it wasn't my fault about the starch either_ (or the soap) _or the soap! _(Nobody liked the soap!)

With a smile at the memory, he linked his fingers behind the back of his head, stared up at the red ceiling and let his mind wander.

Here in this ancient Monastery, he felt as if he could be truly at peace for once in his life. Words could not describe what Presto felt in this place. There was power like he had never felt before. Incredible, monumental, impossible… they all seemed to fall short somehow.

It _almost_ felt like coming home; he could clearly remember what it had felt like in those few precious moments when they'd thought that Zandora's Box had sent them back to earth (before Venger had made his unwelcome appearance). This was the same. He felt safe in a way he would never have imagined feeling in the Realm.

It wasn't just raw power, though. He'd felt raw power that day in the Dragon's Graveyard when they had faced off against Venger, and won. He would recognise that difficult, uncomfortable and crude feeling anywhere, and there was nothing like that here. The power here was as muted as it was powerful and all encompassing, magic in its true form, nothing like the confusing muddle he experienced every day with the Hat.

Magic was beautiful. If it wasn't for the fact that he wanted to go home to earth to see his Mom and Dad, and the fact that he wanted to be with his friends, he could easily have stayed there forever enjoying its subtle intricacies, always with the prospect of something new to discover just around the next corner.

Again, Presto smiled at the fantasy, content to enjoy the feeling for the moment, savouring the sensation.

There seemed to be the scent of fresh flowers on the air, a warming, soothing smell that he liked, so Presto took a long, slow breath in and closed his eyes once more.

* * *

Diana liked to lie around in bed, especially one so warm. It was once of the few vices she ever indulged back at home. Her training regime was hard, and she enjoyed the few times a week when she could stay in bed without having to get up and run and exercise.

It felt like she was filled with excitement and anticipation this morning, like the morning of a big sports event, where she was going to compete. She liked feeling like that, the buzz of adrenaline that filled her body and made her tingle.

She lay stretched out in her bed, marvelling at the softness of the sheets and how much space there was to enjoy. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd slept in a proper bed, let alone a king-sized bed so soft and comfortable. No one had ever slept in a bed like this before; probably not even Eric for all his protestations of luxury!

There was no worry about what they were going to face today. There was no worry about Orcs or Lizardmen or Venger, or the unknown terrors that stalked this world. There was no worry about where to find food, or who was going to be on watch.

She gave a huge stretch, like a cat, debating whether or not to make the effort and get out of bed. Then she mentally shrugged. There was no reason to move. Not _just_ yet. There was no rush to get anywhere, or do anything today.

So Diana closed her eyes and let herself drift back off to sleep.

* * *

Sheila liked to pull the covers up tightly around her and drink in the sensation of safety. It was as close to bliss as she had ever come, she couldn't ever remember feeling so relaxed, and above all, _safe._

Here in the Realm they had to be constantly on the alert, the few times they hadn't been careful something bad had happened. And bad things occasionally happened even when they were being careful!

But just now she could be at ease. She was safe, Bobby was safe, and Hank, and the others too, and she lay in bed, enjoying the serene silence.

She had never felt in need of a good sleep before, or so grateful for a roof over her head. She had never enjoyed sleeping outside, the few times they had gone camping back at home with her Mom and Dad had been terrible and she'd hardly spelt at all.

And now, every night she woke at least twice, often much more. She was sensitive to what was going on around her and it seemed that any slight noise would waken her; the sounds of the night, the call of the animals, Presto snoring lightly, Eric occasionally talking in his sleep.

Bt though she was still sleepy, she didn't want to go back to sleep just yet.

There was a sense of anticipation that she had never felt before, but she had no idea why she was so nervous and excited. Normally she would have been apprehensive at the thought of such an important gathering; from what Dungeonmaster had told them it seemed that it was one of the most important events in the Realm. And they were invited to it!

What was it about this place that made her feel so unlike herself? She should be worried, and she should be missing her Cloak and the implicit option she always had to hid underneath it and vanish. And what was going to happen?

She had no answers, but instead enjoyed playing with the possibilities, imagining all sorts of situations.

The only thing she knew for sure was that there was a party tonight, and she wondered who else would be there. It was going to be of some size, probably filled with important people, maybe Kings and Queens and Princes and Princesses; who knew which of their old friends they might meet again. A small smile crept across her face. And she was going too, along with Hank and the others.

It might actually be _fun_!

When was the last time they had _fun_ in the Realm?

_Fun_, she thought. _Wouldn't it be a pleasant change if we all had fun._

She closed her eyes, thinking of fun and happy things, and drifted back to sleep.

* * *

Bobby the Barbarian slept.

In fact, he slept like he had never slept before, unaware of anything and everything that was going on around him, deep in a dreamless sleep.

And curled up at his feet, like a cat on a favourite cushion, Uni slept too.

* * *

Once again, the suns crept towards the horizon and over the land a respectful silence fell, a silence that no one dared disturb.

Though only the chosen few understood the significance of this night, all creatures in the Realm felt its power. It was a night for peacefulness, the most sacred of nights: The Night of Destiny.

All things came to rest, all people and powers and animals.

Venger the Arch-Mage closed his eyes and rested, unable to remain awake.

Dungeonmaster too relinquished his hold on the land and gave himself up to sleep.

Even Tiamat the Dragon Queen succumbed to the power from the Monastery and curled up in her bed of gold to dream.

As the last rays from the suns slid into twilight, all was still. A painted veil lay over the Realm, and the only spark of life that stirred was at Esagil.

* * *


	3. The Grand Occasion

Chapter 3

The Grand Occasion

_Wake up, Eric… _a warm, motherly voice whispered in his ear. _It's time to wake up. Eric. Wake up! It's time to go._

Dragged from a deep, comfortable sleep and still groggy, Eric was aware enough to remember where he was, and he opened his eyes with a start at the sound of the unexpected voice.

No one was there, and instead of a voice, there was the clang of a sonorous bell that reverberated through the room. Was he imagining things now?

Confused, Eric pushed himself upright very slowly, looking around his room for a few moments as if seeing it for the first time. Almost everything in it was red; red drapes by the window, scarlet sheets on the bed, everything but the smooth back and white checkerboard floor.

Lazily, Eric rubbed his eyes and took a deep breath. The grogginess was leaving him and he was beginning to feel much more awake. He hadn't had a sleep like than in years! He felt _fantastic_… if a little bit hungry!

As he sat there, he noticed a neat pile of clothes sitting on the table at the end of his bed. Those hadn't been there last night, when he'd gone for a midnight bath! He wriggled forward under the sheet to pick them up and examine them. They were red as well; a red shirt, red socks and shoes and underwear. Even the pants that had initially looked black were really just very dark maroon, except for the shiny, silver belt buckle on the very dark maroon belt.

'Suppose I shouldn't be surprised,' he said out loud to the empty room.

With that, Eric rolled out of bed and washed, then pulled the new clothes on, surprised at the sophistication of the cut. Once dressed, he looked down at himself, slowly smoothing the fabrics down over his arms, and brushing half-imagined flecks of dust from the cuffs. The clothes fitted perfectly. He looked _smart_, from the starched collar all the way down to his bright, clean shoes. When was the last time he'd looked smart? He'd never looked smart in the Realm before!

Just as he was pondering that question, the bell sounded once more, a low booming noise that hung in the air for a few moments longer than seemed natural, then slowly decayed in volume.

Eric recognised it for what it was: it was a summons.

A vague sense of foreboding passed through him. This was an important party, people would be there; they would expect him to be charming and sophisticated and maybe even… _friendly._ He shuddered at the thought. That's what happened when his parents put on something like this. And he'd never been very good at that sort of thing. For all his bravado and self-importance, he had always felt out of his depth at the parties his parents threw. He'd found the constant need to smile tiring; he'd found the enforced small-talk dull, and he'd usually sulked in a corner until he could escape back up to his room. Was he just about to do the same thing here in the Realm?

The bell boomed out again and, once again, Eric hesitated.

But this wasn't like being back home, he reminded himself. There were no Mom and Dad there to constantly look down at him; there were no "Business Associates" and no "High-Flying Lawyers" or "Important People You Have To Be Nice To". There was no one around telling him to be on his best behaviour, on pain of having his allowance cut off. That was certainly a plus!

More importantly, his friends would be there. He would at least have someone to talk to, even if the rest of the guests were unbearable.

And, even more importantly, there would probably be food as well, and that thought helped his nerve much more than any other.

Eric steeled himself. Why was he being so negative? Drawing a deep breath, he opened the door to his room, and stepped out into the empty corridor.

Looking left then right, he wondered which was he was supposed to go. As if in answer to his thought, the bell sounded out once again, and Eric followed the sound, off to the right, round the corner and down a flight of wide, shallow steps to another hallway.

This time the floor wasn't red, but black and white checked, and his footsteps echoed around in an uncomfortably obvious way. But he still didn't see anyone else. He crossed the hall to yet another set of steps and at the bottom of those he could hear the noise of quiet talking and guessed he was getting near.

Eric walked on again, the noise growing loud and he became aware of the refreshing, pleasant smell of food. Finally, he rounded a corner. A short way in front of him was an arch, and beyond it he could see the outline of a great Hall, with a high, vaulted ceiling. At the archway, Enlil the Herald was standing waiting for him, still dressed in bright, shining white. In one hand he had his usual staff, but in the other was a strange, long, heavy-looking, metal pole with a glass orb stuck in the top and a thick, reinforced base at the bottom.

The Herald turned as Eric came forward, and greeted him with a low bow.

'Welcome to the Sentience Hall, Cavalier of the Realm,' said Enlil. Eric bowed back, feeling slightly embarrassed.

The Herald motioned him to go through the archway. With his heart suddenly thumping in anticipation, Eric moved towards the entrance, in full view of all the people that were gathered there.

He had only taken a short step when he stopped, his breath (and most of his confidence) taken away by what he saw before him. It was as if he were standing on the top of a cliff, looking down, and the Hall seemed to stretch on for miles in all directions. The walls were decorated in the manner of an open view over the Realm, the mountains and the valleys and the sky and the suns all in their perfect position. And milling around at the bottom were people, like giants striding over the Realm, all dressed in shades of red, sweeping through the lands like fire. There was another short flight of stairs in front of him, down to the Hall so he could join them.

Eric slowly looked around, his mouth slightly open, unable to move. Something inside him stirred, a feeling of magical power holding him still. He was not allowed to enter. Not yet.

From behind him, there were two sharp, resounding raps on the floor what echoed through the whole Hall. Everyone stopped and turned to look at him. Then Enlil's voice rang out.

'Eric Stephen Alexander Montgomery, the Cavalier of the Realm!'

The Hall went completely silent as his title was spoken. Eric stood there, looking down on the ocean of red-clad people who stared expectantly up at him. He couldn't move. Then a ripple of applause started in one corner and spread round the Hall slowly swelled in volume and resonating from the walls so it seemed that the whole Realm was welcoming him.

Eric tilted his head up in response, feeling the kind of pride and appreciation he had rarely felt before. The magical force that held him sank away like the ebb of a tide, and he walked down the steps, feeling everyone looking respectfully up at him.

When he reached the bottom step, he looked around. Now the Hall was different from before; like a vast cavern, huge and unexplored, and all the people were crushed together in tight-knit groups. The fleeting pride and confidence had vanished, and a long-forgotten discomfort returned. What was he supposed to do now? _Mingle_?

With a small frown, Eric paused at the bottom of the steps, looking left then right. Now he was here, he felt lost in the crowd, and it felt like all the other people were watching him behind his back, waiting for him to do something dumb. He had to do something. He had to at least show that he knew what he was doing, even if he didn't.

Breathing in, the smell of warm, delicious food gave him an idea. The best thing to do was to go and find himself some dinner. Then at least, he might be able to find his friends, and he wouldn't look so out of place.

So Eric made his way forward, following the smell of cooking meats and giving any people who glanced in his direction a bland smile. He had gone no more than about twenty feet when there was a touch on his shoulder.

'Cavalier!' said a deep voice behind him. 'My greetings!'

Eric turned to see an old man standing just behind him, dressed neatly in red as well. The man who had spoken obviously recognised Eric, but the Cavalier couldn't quite place him at first. He had a lined, craggy face, a stern air like a teacher and lock of silver hair, just off centre. Where had they met? Eric frowned in consternation. It was a city…it was…Amoran!

Suddenly, Eric smiled and shook his hand, bracing himself for the crushing grip.

'Hi, Shiran,' he said. The old Tronager from Amoran smiled back, his black eyes glinting. They looked at each other for a number of seconds, the pain in Eric's hand growing. Then Shiran released his grip and Eric gave a stifled gasp of relief.

'It seems I must congratulate you on behalf of the City of Amoran,' Shiran said, arching his eyebrows in a conspiratorial manner. 'I didn't think you had it in you, young man.'

Eric blushed, uncomfortable with the praise.

'Yeah, well, actually, ya know, it was more Bobby and…'

Shiran gave a dry laugh.

'Well, well, well. I had never thought _modesty_ was one of your traits, young Cavalier,' he said with a wide, predatory smile that made Eric long for the safety of his Shield. '"All suffered to save the City." Wasn't that what Dungeonmaster said?'

Eric's gaze slid to the ground and for once couldn't think of anything appropriate to say. More than that, he had no desire to think about that, tonight of all nights. They were silent, and when Eric looked back up, Shiran had an unexpectedly understanding look on his face.

'And also I think you have, perhaps, discovered my _secret_,' said Shiran with a wary smile. Eric didn't have the courage to deny it so he nodded. The man was really a morphed Steel Dragon, and one of the things Eric had learned quickly in the Realm was that you don't want to upset a Dragon unless you really, _really_ have to.

'I suggest you keep it to yourself, Cavalier.' Again, Eric nodded. 'However, I owe you thanks, for you help against the Drow.'

Eric looked blank for a few seconds, then suddenly realised what Shiran meant. There had been a Steel Dragon trapped by the Cult.

'That? That was you?' he asked in surprise.

Shiran nodded slowly. He didn't look pleased at the memory and Eric took a tiny step backwards, away from the glowering man.

'I owe you a favour, Cavalier,' Shiran said. 'Sometime…'

With that, the old man bowed slightly and moved away, leaving Eric to stare after him in surprise. He guessed this was what it was going to happen a lot this evening, people from all over the Realm were here, after all! It was impossible to guess who he might run into next.

The conversation with the old Tronager had been unsettling, but the sense of being out of place that he'd had earlier had gone; these people treated him like an adult, for one thing. And he felt like he could relax.

For the first time he looked around at the other people wondering if there was anyone else he knew, apart from his friends. Close by were others that Eric didn't recognise, strange creatures he couldn't even name and elegant nobles dressed in fine robes.

As he looked around, there was a sharp rap from behind him, and Eric looked back towards the archway. All conversation stopped and again there was a profound silence. At the top of the steps was a tall woman dressed in a sweeping dress, coloured red of course, with short and spiky straw-coloured hair, a narrow face and a very strange shaped body that made her look more like a fish than a person. Eric stared.

Then Enlil said something, most likely a name but one that Eric couldn't ever hope to pronounce, then added: 'The Ruler of Aquara, High Priestess of Brighid. The Queen of the Selkies.'

There was more applause as the woman waddled unsteadily down the steps, and Eric joined in.

Around him, conversations started up again so Eric moved through the crowd, not seeing anyone else he recognised. But there were any number of curious creatures here; there seemed to be people and creatures here from every conceivable culture, except Orcs, Lizardmen and Bullywugs.

He saw a Centaur taking with a man in a thin gold crown. There were Dwarves, with their plaited beards and heavy belts of gold; and Gnomes and Halflings, and all sorts of humanoid creatures he didn't know the names of.

He walked on, smiling at the other people and always searching for a hint of a face he recognised. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he was sure he saw King Lawrence standing talking to someone else he recognised, maybe Queen Sulinara from Tardos Keep.

Eric turned and took half a step towards them, but abruptly he stopped. Firstly, they were deep in a very intense conversation and mostly likely they wouldn't want to be interrupted, but also he didn't exactly leave the Kingdom of Zinn in pleasant circumstances and he didn't want to have to go through all _that_ again tonight either.

But even though he didn't speak to them, knowing that there were other people there he knew made him feel more at ease. Maybe this wasn't going to be so terrible after all! Maybe he could actually enjoy himself!

Once more, Eric continued to drift through the Hall, winding around the outside of conversations and smiling as nonchalantly as he could at anyone who made eye contact, but not stopping to talk.

There was another double rap on the floor, and Eric turned to see who it was just as Enlil's voice boomed out.

'Sheila Caitlin O'Brien, Thief of the Realm. Robert Niall O'Brien, Barbarian of the Realm.'

Eric looked up at the two siblings with an oddly proud grin as applause rose from the Hall. They were both dressed in red and though they looked happy enough, something didn't seem to be right. Eric watched them, sure that something was missing but unable for a moment to see what it was.

It suddenly struck him: Uni was nowhere to be seen.

Eric watched as together Sheila and Bobby walked down the steps, but within moments of reaching the bottom, they vanished into the sea of red-clad people. Maybe he would have gone back to try and find them, but after only a moment's hesitation, he couldn't be sure where they were. He could conceivably have spent all night looking for them. Besides, he knew Bobby well enough to know that he too would be heading straight for the food.

Eric kept moving. Every so often his random walk thought the Hall was interrupted by the loud, booming voice of the Herald announcing someone new. Most of the names Eric didn't recognise, and he had quickly grown used to politely clapping, regardless of who it was.

He had almost stopped listening properly, so intent was he on getting through the crowded room but then there was another more familiar name.

'Henry Grayson…' said the Herald. Eric almost didn't turn in time as it had been a very long time since he'd heard Hank called by is real name. '… Ranger of the Realm!'

Hank stood on the top step, dressed in the same way as Eric all in red. He looked around at the people with a nervous smile.

Eric saw Hank walk down the steps with a slightly bemused expression on his face, and there was more loud applause, not thunderous, but close enough. Eric frowned, feeling slightly jealous. He peered back at the steps for as long as he could before Hank vanished from his view, people moving forward to greet him. After a few moments of failing to catch sight of him again, Eric looked away.

Feeling a little ashamed of his jealousy, Eric continued on towards his goal of food, though he had no idea quite where he was supposed to be going. He could have asked someone, and he might have eventually been forced to do just that, but in the end there was no need.

Only a minute after Hank had arrived, someone called out to Eric.

'Hey! Cavalier!' said a voice to one side. This time, Eric turned to grin at the boy who'd spoken. The odd accent had told him immediately who it was: Paul, the Rogue a member of the other group of Young Ones that they had met only a few months before.

As he turned, a warm shiver of anticipation passed through him. If Paul was here, then maybe… Eric frowned, suddenly unsure about the implications of the rest of that sentence. Was seeing her again going to be good, or going to be bad?

What if she was there already, watching him!

But much to Eric's relief, there was only one other boy with the Rogue. Paul was sitting on a chair against the wall, not dressed in his usual outfit, but in smart red clothes and was munching on something that looked like an oversized shrimp canapé. Beside him, Jamie the Mystic was sitting eating as well, looking odd out of his Mystic robes.

Both boys gave the Cavalier a welcoming grin and Eric saw that they had a small mountain of sumptuous food on a number of plates on the table between them. He licked his lips.

'So old Dee-Em sent you lot here too?' said Paul. He followed Eric's gaze to the plate, and his grin grew more mischievous. 'Pull up a seat and have some food!'

There was no need to be asked twice, so Eric did, feeling relieved to have found people that he knew and could talk to.

The food smelled wonderful and tasted even better, and even though Eric had no idea what it was or where it had come from, that didn't seem to matter at the moment.

He helped himself to a shrimpy-pancake thing that was smothered in a succulent sauce that he demolished in just three bites.

'Well,' he said, grinning, 'you keep welcoming people like this, and we'll be out of food in no time!'

'There's plenty more, relax Eric,' said Paul.

Eric helped himself to another one.

'Don't you guys want some more,' he asked, feeling slightly greedy.

'We've been here for about an hour,' said Jamie, patting his stomach. 'We're fine!'

Eric grinned and helped himself to more pancakes.

'Whatya been doin',' he asked through a mouthful of food.

'You know, the same old thing,' said Paul with a dismissive flick of his hand. 'Fighting monsters, escaping from castles, fighting more monsters, struggling to survive. Not going home. And you?'

'Th'same,' slurred Eric.

'No change there, then,' said Paul, the faintest hint of bitterness in his voice. Eric gulped down the half-chewed mouthful of food.

'Least we got to go to a party,' he said quickly. 'Beats nuts and berries any day!'

At that, Paul smiled and the air of discomfort evaporated.

As Eric continued to eat, Paul and Jamie chatted away about nothing much; they swapped a few adventure stories and Eric made no attempt to change the topic or leave their company. There was no need to find more food and both the boys were happy enough to let him eat while they spoke and every so often they paused as another person arrived at the Hall.

Eric wanted to ask about the others in the group, and where they were, but he didn't; feeling the colour rising his face as he thought about her and what had happened.

She would be here somewhere. What was he gonna say to her? How should he act? He hadn't thought about her _that_ much since they'd parted, not every day or anything stupid like that. He had kinda hoped in a way that they'd run into each other again, but it had been a pipe dream, a fantasy he had mulled over during the numerous long, boring walks. And occasionally at night. And occasionally in the morning, as well. Ok, so maybe he had thought about her a bit, but definitely not all the time. No. Not _all_ the time.

'Hey, ol' Cavalier? You listening?'

'Uh…?'

'Why do you have such a goofy look on your face?'

That question stopped him, canapé half way up to his mouth. What was he gonna say?

'W-w-well…'

Eric was saved from having to answer by another rap on the floor, and Eric looked round. The breath caught in the back of his throat at the sight of such a beautiful, elegant woman standing proudly at the top of the steps.

'The Child of Light,' boomed Enlil. There was sudden, acute silence as everyone looked up at the archway, and even from so far away, Eric knew her well enough to know that Diana would be incredibly uncomfortable at that title. 'Diana Curry, the Acrobat of the Realm!'

The room erupted in joyous, thunderous applause, and Eric joined in with more enthusiasm than before. Diana walked quickly down the steps and disappeared from Eric's sight amid a throng of people.

He looked back at his two companions, seeing them exchange a glance.

'What?' he asked.

'Um…' said Paul. 'I didn't think she liked that name.'

'She doesn't,' said Eric shaking his head slowly. 'I sometimes think if you said it to her face she'd hit you!'

There was a pause, and again Paul and Jamie looked at each other.

'That Herald could get away with it!' said Paul lightly. 'Can't imagine Diana decking him!'

Eric grinned at the mental image. Only a few moments later, there was another rap on the floor. This time, when Eric looked up, his stomach dropped about a foot with nervousness.

'Gail Beryl McColl, the Harlequin of the Realm.'

The Harlequin was standing on the second top stair, wearing a long, crimson evening dress, low cut at the front and tight around her hips. Her short, black hair was neatly smoothed down. Eric felt his heart skip slightly, the nervousness combining with a strange, light-headed feeling that he couldn't explain.  
But the mood was completely ruined by the ungainly sniggers from beside him.

'Beryl!' giggled Jamie. '_Beryl_! No wonder she wouldn't tell us her middle name!'

Paul was laughing too much to reply. Eric scowled at them, not seeing quite why that was so amusing and when he looked back to the steps, she was gone, just like the others.

Eric waited for a few moments, hoping to restart a different conversation, but there were more people arriving. For the next few minutes, any attempt at conversation stopped, Enlil's Staff rapped on the floor with great regularity, but Eric didn't recognise any more of the people.

Finally, there was one he did know.

'Preston Arthur, the Magician of the Realm!'

Grinning, Eric looked round. Presto was far away, but he seemed to be smiling, and taking the whole experience in his stride, though he hated being called Preston in any circumstances! It struck Eric that Presto looked very odd not wearing the familiar Magician robes, but in trousers and a shirt. He could just imagine Presto's face if he said something.

That thought lingered. He'd spent enough time eating and chatting. It was time to go and find the others. He stood up, taking a last small canapé to keep him going.

'Look guys,' he said to Paul and Jamie, 'thanks for the food, but I've gotta go!'

'Sure, Eric,' said Paul, standing up as well. 'Suppose we should too. We'll see you around.'

With a small wave, Eric moved away, pushing eagerly forward through the crowd of people. It was even more difficult to move now but he kept on going, anxious to meet up with the others again. More than anything else at that moment, he felt that his place was with them, wherever they were.

Though he was not certain where they were, Eric kept on going, making his way past small groups of chattering creatures and humans. How was he ever going to find them?

Ahead, he caught sight of a flash of blonde hair, and his hopes rose. That could be Hank!

At that moment, the Herald struck the floor _three_ times and all the noise in the room petered out to a deep silence; Eric hardly dared to breathe, it was so unnaturally quiet. He came to a halt and, along with everyone else, turned to look at the archway.

Enlil was standing there as always, but in front of him on the top step, there was another man. The new man was much shorter than the Herald and hunched forward as if he was carrying a heavy burden. His long black hair hung down around his face, hiding his features, and he carried in his hand what looked like the branch of a tree, painted white. But most surprisingly of all, he wasn't dressed in red but in a painfully bright and obvious blue that shimmered as he moved.

There was an awe-filled anticipation in the Hall and for the first time since he himself had entered the Hall, Eric could feel a burst of _magic_ swell though him, as if Sentience Hall itself rejoiced in seeing the other man.

After another moment of complete silence, Enlil spoke.

'Mumo'on the Great! The Prophet of Esagil, High Priest of Sentience Halls! The Right Hand of Fate! ALL HAIL!'

* * *


	4. 4 Take Six

Chapter 4

Take Six

'_ All hail!'_

All around Eric the words rang out in echoed response to the Herald's command. The sound of so many voices, raised up as one, sent a shiver through the Cavalier. And the silence that followed was like a cold pool of water, so tranquil and all-encompassing that Eric could hardly hear his own breathing.

No one moved. For a few seconds, Eric was as still as the stones of the Monastery themselves, drowning in the silence that surrounded him. The weight of where he was, the great pressure of what he was there to witness sank onto his shoulders. Here in the Monastery of Esagil, here in the Sentience Hall was the heart of Good in the Realm; Dungeonmaster had told them so. Around him were old friends, powerful and important people, and for once in his life Eric felt genuinely insignificant in the crowd, insignificant compared to his five friends as well, even the diminutive Barbarian.

Slowly, the silence shifted in focus and Eric instinctively looked up. Ahead, standing on the top step of the Hall, his head still bowed as if carrying a great weight, was the High Priest Mumo'on. His hand was raised, his blue robe taking on the sheen of flowing water in the bright light. Then he tilted his head up to look around at the people gathered there.

'Greetings to you all, the Great and Good of the Realm,' he said.

His voice was not what Eric had expected. His accent was thick and different from any Eric had heard before. His tone was in contrast to the Herald, who carried his authority and power in his voice; this man sounded weak and frail, as if he was whispering to everyone. Quite how Mumo'on had managed to speak loud enough to be heard across the whole hall, Eric didn't know and he glanced to his left, expecting someone to tell the old man to repeat himself. But no one did. Everyone was staring at the High Priest with total and undivided attention. Everyone, that was, but Eric. The Cavalier looked back at the man dressed in blue with the acute and uncomfortable feeling that the extended pause was for his benefit.

'You have all been summoned here to celebrate the Good of the Realm,' Mumo'on continued. 'You are called to give life to the Magic of Fate, and lead the way forward.'

Eric frowned slightly. _Lead the way forward?_ The words echoed in Eric's mind as if someone had said them before, and the High Priest was just quoting.

'And yet you must remember. Tonight is the night of Fate,' the way Mumo'on said that word made

Eric shiver. 'You all have your parts to play.'

Mumo'on stepped forward and walked carefully down the steps to be lost in the red ocean of people. Eric blinked for a few seconds, disarmed by the anti-climax. He had expected

something more that just a few sentences; the speeches at the parties he'd been to before usually went on for a good ten minutes, maybe even twenty if his Dad had opened the champagne early. On the other hand, at least his Dad had usually made some sort of sense.

Eric frowned more deeply. There had been something vaguely ominous about the way Mumo'on had said that last sentence. _You all have your parts to play._ The old Dungeonmaster had occasionally hinted at something along the same lines, that they were there for a specific reason and that reason didn't involve a Portal home. Did that mean they had to do something, and not just enjoy a night free from danger, for once?

The Cavalier didn't get a chance to ponder the idea for longer than a moment as suddenly someone clapped him hard on the shoulder and he jumped around, a cold spike of fear going straight through him.

'We were wondering where you had gotten to,' Hank said with a grin. Eric gulped, as the panic faded as suddenly as it had arrived as he looked at his friends. The five of them were standing there, grinning at his anxiety. Annoyed at being teased, even very slightly, in such a public and important place, Eric scowled at them.

'Why so jumpy, Cavalier?' said Diana with a smirk. 'Were you expecting someone else?'

With a disinterested sniff, Eric ignored her as best he could, which was difficult considering how elegant she looked in her sweeping, sandstone-red dress. Sheila had tucked herself right up beside Hank and, though Eric couldn't be sure from where he was standing, it looked as if they were holding hands. In public! And what with Presto not wearing a dress, and the lack of annoying, whiny-Unicorn noises, Eric was left feeling disconcerted more than annoyed.

'Um... where s Uni?' Eric asked Bobby, grasping at any small, half-chance at normality.

'She didn't want to come along,' the Barbarian replied with a shrug.

Eric wasn't certain, but Bobby sounded like he was just pretending to sound unconcerned.

'Too many other people, I think,' said Sheila, filling in the slightly awkward silence. 'She'd get lost in such a big crowd, Bobby. She's happier in your room.'

The Barbarian accepted that statement with a nod, but didn't appear to be convinced. Sheila sensed it too, and looked up to Hank for help. Hank, to his credit didn't miss a beat, but started questioning the others about what they had been up to for the previous day, and what they had found out about the Monastery.

Eric listened as the others talked. Though Hank pretended otherwise, he only had eyes for Sheila and vice versa. A giant Dragon could show up and neither of them would have given it a second glance. Diana had noticed, judging by the knowing look on her face and the way she kept smiling at Eric. Bobby was concentrating on finding food.

Eric kept silent even as the conversation turned to the guests and who else might be there that they hadn't seen. In spite of feeling better now they were all together, Eric couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen.

After a few minutes, Eric noticed that Presto wasn't saying much either, and the Magician was looking around at the other guests, a concerned look on his face.

'Hey, Presto, you ok?' the Cavalier asked quietly.

Presto nodded, but his heart wasn't in it.

'Re-ally?' Eric asked, stretching out the vowel sound as much as he could and giving Presto his best, most-incredulous look. The Magician glanced from left to right, then shrugged.

'I' m ok. I suppose.' For once, Eric kept his mouth shut, looking at Presto and knowing that his friend had more to say. 'This place feels weird, that's all.'

Eric didn't voice his surprise at Presto's words; not at the words themselves, but the suspiciously clear way he summarised exactly what Eric himself had been feeling about this place.

'Yeah, I know,' Eric said with a nod. 'It's more weird than most places and this whole Realm is chock full or weird!'

Presto stared at him.

'What?' demanded Eric.

'No, no, nothing!' said Presto quickly. He sighed again. 'It's just... I kind of... I miss the Hat.'

Eric's self-control crumbled and he gave a short snort of laughter. Presto didn't look pleased, but fortunately Eric was saved an argument.

'Greetings, Young Ones,' said a quiet voice behind them. For a moment, Eric was confused, Dungeonmaster wasn't here, but someone was using his favourite phrase. Still, Eric recognised the voice as that of Mumo'on, but he didn't really believe that the High Priest would bother talking to them when there were so many other important people in the Sentience Hall. But a quick glance in the direction of Hank told Eric that those assumptions were wrong, and Mumo'on was indeed standing right behind him, so Eric turned around, trying not to seem as nervous or stupid as he felt.

Face to face, Mumo'on was different again from the fleeting impression Eric had formed earlier. His face was narrow and stern and he looked around the group with the kind of unfeeling glare that Venger often used. At Eric's side, Presto took a tiny step back.

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

'I welcome the _Six_ of you to my Monastery!'

Eric had been wrong; here was one thing that managed to tear Hank's attention away from Sheila. The Ranger looked startled and struggled to find an appropriate reply.

'Th-Thanks,' he said after a moment.

Mumo'on looked at the Ranger intently and after another second or two, Hank gave a stiff bow. In response, Mumo'on gave a gracious and affected nod of his head and said:

'And it is a great honour to receive Dungeonmaster's star pupils in my Monastery.'

Hank's face grew slightly red at the complement.

But Eric didn't like it. _Star pupils_? Well, they were pretty good at wandering around the Realm making an impression. But why was it so important that they were the ones singled out like this? It wasn't as if Eric didn't enjoy attention, he was wise enough to recognise that, but this wasn't the sort of attention that he liked. He much preferred to get attention on his own terms rather than have it foisted upon him when he was ill equipped to deal with it. He didn't want to be the centre of the party, not tonight and certainly not here. Eric glanced at Hank, hoping for some sort of reassurance. But, other than the tinge of red around his cheek bones, Hank looked quite relaxed. Almost too relaxed. In fact, Hank was being very un-Hank-like in his relaxed attitude tonight. But then, he finally had a night off, he wasn't the leader at the moment; they were just a group of close friends hanging around together and enjoying each others company. That was all.

Eric inadvertently caught Diana's eye, and he smiled. She smiled back, much more warmly than Eric had expected. She kept on looking at him.

A familiar fear crept up his spine. This was going to go wrong. This was just a joke at his expense and there was a sign pinned to his back saying "kick me". This was... The maudlin thoughts were interrupted when Mumo'on spoke again.

'I have something that you might find... Mumo'on leaned forward to towards Hank, his dark eyes gleaming with what Eric took to be anticipation. '...interesting.'

The word hung in the silence, and the Cavalier watched as Hank and the other man stared at each other.

'Very well,' said Mumo'on suddenly.

He turned without another word and walked off. With a start, Hank followed, and after a moments hesitation, the others did the same.

The great Mumo'on led them purposefully through the crowd of people, ignoring anyone else and any attempt they made to speak to him. Eric felt uncomfortable to be singled out like this, but in general the other people barely gave him or the others a second glance. Once again, he had the sensation of being the one left out and everyone else knew what was going one except him.

As they walked, he didn't recognise anyone he knew, and all the time, in the back of his mind he was wondering if Gail was here somewhere, maybe watching him out of the corner of her eye. He hoped she was. And he hoped she wasn't. He couldn't make up his mind. Somehow, after meeting Jamie and Paul, he had assumed he'd get to speak to Gail as well, and even though part of him dreaded that conversation, he didn't want to leave without saying something.

But within a few minutes, the six of them and Mumo'on reached the edge of the Sentience Hall. Close up, the decorations on the wall were even more impressive, with an unparalleled level of detail in the mural. It was almost as if he was looking at a photograph. But Eric didn't stop long to admire the skill, he didn't get the chance. Mumo'on opened the large double doors in a brusque manner and was out into the darkness beyond as fast as an orc on fire.

Eric glanced around at his friends, who were all looking as confused, nervous (and out of breath) as he felt.

Hank followed first, Sheila at his side, closely followed by Bobby then Diana. Presto and Eric were left looking at each other. If Eric had to hazard a guess, he would have guessed that Presto thought this was not a good idea. But rather than agree out loud with the Magician, Eric shrugged and stepped forward through the doorway.

'When in Loony-land...' he muttered.

'...do as the Loonies do,' finished Presto.

Side-by-side, they left the hall and walked down a dark corridor. After the bright light of the Sentience Hall Eric found it difficult to see any of the details of the decoration. Mumo'on s blue robe was still shimmering even in the muted light, and it was simple to follow the others onwards. As they walked onwards Eric felt the sense of magic building inside his chest. Just like that disastrous day as the Dungeonmaster, he could feel magic everywhere, the subtle nuances coiling in spirals through the floor and the wall, the carpet and the decoration, even through himself. But this wasn't the same kind of magic as the Dungeonmaster had had. This was altogether more intense and focused, almost as if the magic itself knew what it was doing and he was only a small piece in its vast purpose.

Beside him, Presto trailed forward too, a good few steps behind the other four, dragging his feet in that distinctive way that Eric recognised perfectly. Presto wasn't happy.

Ahead, Hank and Sheila were walking along side by side, their arms inadvertently touching all the time. At the sight, Eric rolled his eyes. How long were those two going to pretend? And how long was it going to be until he could get down to some proper making fun of their being _in love_? Were they going to make him wait forever? He had a whole suite of perfect one-liners already worked out for exactly this occasion! He couldn't waste them.

Just in front of the two lovebirds Bobby strutted along, his head held high, not looking with any apparent interest at his surroundings.

But Diana was a different matter. She was looking around, her head constantly turned by what she saw, and every so often Eric would catch her looking at him with an expression that made him uncomfortable. He wasn't usually uncomfortable around Diana, but tonight, every second glance seemed to be back at him and it was making him feel as if he'd done something wrong. Was he wearing his shirt back to front? Was he covered in red ink again and no one had the heart to tell him? It wasn't as if he disliked the constant attention from such a stunning girl; it was just that it made him feel so uncomfortable. He was going to ask her to stop it, but in the end he just lifted his head up and looked away, promising himself that he wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of knowing she'd got to him.

They continued down one deserted corridor after another, following the High Priest. They turned one way then the other until Eric was well and truly lost. Just when he though the walk was going to go on all night, they turned down one more corridor to a dead end.

Directly ahead was a set of ornate and massive double doors that gleamed like polished granite. It was clearly a door, but there were no handles on the outside and no sign of any hinges. Just before it, Mumo'on paused.

'What are we waiting for?' Bobby asked Sheila in a fake whisper.

'I... um...'

Mumo'on turned around and gave the Barbarian a little smile.

'You may try to enter, if you wish.'

The young boy tilted his head up, the same way he did every time he was challenged, but Hank caught him by the shoulder before he moved.

'Not so fast, Bobby,' Hank said.

Mumo'on gave Hank a slight tilt of his head.

'A wise decision, Ranger of the Realm,' he said. 'No one may pass without permission.'

'Permission from who?' demanded Bobby.

'_Me_,' came the reply from the High Priest. He looked steadily at the young boy, and Bobby stared back, but only for a few seconds then he looked to the ground.

At Eric's shoulder, Presto leaned forward.

'Wonder what could be so important that it's kept behind those doors,' he said quietly.

The exact same thought had crossed Eric's mind as well.

'Must be something expensive,' he replied. 'This is built like a bank vault!'

'But I wonder why we are being shown it,' whispered Presto, and even in such a low volume, Eric could make out the worried overtones. Eric was about to reply with something either comforting or sarcastic, he couldn't quite decide, but the High Priest suddenly turned and Eric suddenly felt a powerful wave of magic, aggressive and protective both at the same time. He looked away from Mumo'on as quickly as he could.

'You may enter,' said Mumo'on, breaking the uncomfortable silence. 'The doors will open. You may all enter now.'

The group looked at each other, and inevitably Hank took the lead. One at a time, they moved forward again and as they did so the huge double doors slowly swung open with a low grating noise.

The room beyond reminded Eric of Darkhaven in every respect, except size. There was the dim, flickering light of flames and the familiar smell of an old room, little used, the lingering smell of dust and old paper. As he'd expected, the walls and the floor were virtually undecorated, continuing the austere style of the other parts of the Monastery except the Hall. A short way ahead was a long black table, and just behind that was a lectern, with an open book resting on it. Eric couldn't make out exactly what size the book was, or much about it at all. But he did know it was Magic, with a capital M.

As Presto came to stand beside him, he staggered slightly, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. Eric caught his arm.

'You ok, Presto?'

The Magician nodded, blinking a few times in quick succession.

'This place is weird,' he whispered.

The Cavalier nodded, unsure of what else to say as Mumo'on softly padded round the line of six, standing between them and the rest of the room.

Mumo'on gazed round the group, his eyes shining as blue as his robe.

'You are here,' he said in a hushed voice. 'This is the most sacred place in the Realm, the magical centre-point, the home of powers unimaginable to mortals such as yourself. This is the home of Fate itself.'

A quip about the decor formed on Eric's lips, but for once he managed to control himself. He was in enough bad books at the moment without adding Fate to the list as well!

'Come closer, Young Ones,' Mumo'on said, beckoning them with a narrow, knobbly finger. Hank stepped forward, still holding Sheila's hand, so Eric followed, coming to stand shoulder to shoulder with Diana. Neither Presto nor Bobby moved.

'I know of your apprenticeship under the guidance of the Dungeonmaster,' Mumo'on said. 'And I know of your long search for a way back to your home. And I know of all your sacrifices.'

Mumo'on gave Eric a hard look that made his skin crawl. There was no possible way that the High Priest could know about that? Was there? He d not told anyone about Amoran, and the memory was fading. He didn't want to think about that again. Then Mumo'on s gaze shifted, flitting over Bobby and Sheila, to Presto and Diana, giving them hard stares as well. Finally, Mumo'on looked at Hank.

'Yes,' said the High Priest. 'To survive in this Realm you have all sacrificed something.'

Eric saw Hank scowl but he made no reply.

'And thanks to those good deeds you now stand at the very edge of Fate itself on the night when Fate is decided!' Mumo'on s voice was low when he next spoke. 'Only the power of Fate is at work in this place, and in this time.'

Eric glanced at the others, but no one returned his gaze.

'Why?' asked Presto eventually, a frown on his face. 'And how?'

Mumo'on quickly replied.

'Only Fate's magic may work,' said the High Priest. 'That is the way it has been for a thousand years. That is the way it shall always be within the Monastery of Esagil.'

Presto shifted uncomfortably.

'Yeah, but, um, how do you know?'

'It is the way of the Magic of the Monastery,' Mumo'on told him. 'This is how the Magic works, all other magic is forbidden. The power of Fate has threaded itself though the very fabric of the Realm, each plant and animal and creature and rock and mote of dust. Fate is everywhere! It is power, absolute! And it is used to guide those to good deeds. But...' The High Priest stopped speaking abruptly and took a slow breath in, 'But the Prophecy has long spoken of your arrival.'

The others looked at each other once again._ Prophecy_? They all knew enough about the Realm to know that prophecies weren't good.

'Prophecy?' asked Hank. The tone in the Ranger s voice had changed, and there was a twist across his shoulders that Eric instantly recognised. The Ranger that he knew so well was back in charge.

'The presence of those who would free the Realm from the yoke of Evil has long been foretold,' said Mumo'on, not looking away from Hank, who looked back at him with a slight frown. 'For a thousand years, the various aspects of the prophecy had been read and debated by minds of the highest worth. And now you are finally here. You are finally here!'

Eric felt a glow of pride in his chest. They were Dungeonmaster s star pupils, after all.

'For a_ thousand_ years?' asked Presto. If Eric hadn't known better he would have said Presto sounded suspicious. Nevertheless, Mumo'on nodded.

'Yes, Magician of the Realm. One thousand years ago the Great Prophet saw your arrival, and saw the great deeds you would do. Your presence at this place at this time was foreseen by the greatest man who ever lived!'

For the first time in the whole conversation, and since Eric had first seen him, Mumo'on smiled, his eyes wide and his whole face shining with excitement and awe.

'What do we do?' asked Presto. 'What is there for us to do? Do you know?'

Mumo'on's excited smile vanished, and the atmosphere in the room suddenly became colder. Eric looked at Presto and was surprised to see that he his head was held steady, and he met the High Priest's gaze with the same confidence that Hank had shown.

'The book before you may hold the answers, if you dare to read... if you dare to even look! Who can know what you would see?'

'Don't you know?'

Mumo'on didn't answer, just looked at Presto with a fixed expression.

No one else moved.

'So, I could go and look at the book,' said Presto slowly.

'You may look, if you so desire. But the events of your lives are not set or fixed. There is no certainty, there is no way to be absolutely sure. Magic does not work in that fashion. You, of all people should know that.' Mumo'on looked more fiercely at Presto, his voice suddenly rising in volume and power. 'And knowing what it is that you do, you may yet fail, and bring the life of the Realm down with you, letting all that is Good be defeated and all that is unending Evil rise to full power. Do you _dare _to contemplate the consequences, young Magician?'

At Mumo'on s words, Eric felt his chest tighten and his heartbeat grow faster. What were they getting themselves into? Prophecy? The fall of the Realm? The defeat of Good, the rise of unending Evil... it was all down to them?

_The fall of the Realm...?_

No one spoke.

* * *

**Author's Note** - The inevitable has finally happened. An update!


End file.
